


Assumed Identities

by SnubNosedSilhouette



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnubNosedSilhouette/pseuds/SnubNosedSilhouette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Doesn’t it just sound like our kind of adventure?  Bone meadows!  Sends a thrill up my spine to say it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Assumed Identities

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is loosely tied to the idea I started developing in “Identity Politics,” which can now be read as a prologue of sorts to this story. “Assumed Identities” takes place shortly after “The Doctor, the Widow, and the Wardrobe” for the Doctor and somewhere (likely quite a long time before, but I’ll let you all be the judge) before “The Angels Take Manhattan” for River.

The problem, the Doctor reflected, with suddenly needing everyone in the universe (barring one particular individual) to believe that you were dead was that it made day-to-day life incredibly dull.

 

Certainly he could gallivant around as he’d always done and simply pretend to be a younger version of himself (traveling time and space for over 1100 years had its advantages, not the least of which was that it would be all but impossible for anyone to comprehensively catalogue his every movement before his supposed death at Lake Silencio) but not indefinitely. 

 

He’d tried living the quiet life – had tried very hard, actually – but adventure still seemed to find him at every turn.

 

So he decided the only thing left to do was to adopt pseudonyms and change them just often enough to (hopefully) avoid allowing anyone to connect those identities with the Doctor. 

 

He only hoped his wife wasn’t going to mind a little role-playing.

 

***

 

“The bone meadows?  Where are the bone meadows?”  River seized the psychic paper and squinted at the cramped message that had appeared just before the Doctor had picked her up at Stormcage.  “Well, it’s not my writing, I can tell you that.”

 

“Precisely, Dr. Song, which is why I knew I needed to pick you up first,” he tapped her nose affectionately.  “Doesn’t it just sound like our kind of adventure?  _Bone meadows_.  Sends a thrill up my spine to say it.”  He grinned.  It had been a long time – far too long – since he’d shared an adventure with anyone, especially River.  Amy and Rory were on a self-imposed break from the TARDIS, and besides which he knew this particular trip needed to be with River because she’d mentioned it once to him as they attempted to sync diaries.

 

River grinned.  “It does sound rather exciting, doesn’t it?  So where exactly are they?”

 

“Elfenor VII, which I can’t say I’ve ever heard of before.”  He tweaked the wibbley lever and considered how to broach the next subject.  “Speaking of which, there’s something we need to discuss before we land.”

 

“Oh?” River raised an eyebrow suggestively.  The woman could brush her teeth suggestively if she chose (and, he reflected, she had done so on at least one occasion), and clearly she was under the impression that his ‘something’ was far removed from the topic he actually needed do discuss.

 

“Yes, but, um, not what you think.  I – well, that is to say we – wait, you have done Area 52, correct?” He always forgot about the diaries, and she was plainly young enough not to put as much stock in them as she ought.

 

“Of course, Sweetie,” she replied.  “Unless you’re implying that I was also in prison before we were married.”

 

“Right.  Yes.  Well, no.  Of course not.  So… you know that I’m supposed to be dead, correct?”

 

This time River didn’t manage to suppress the eyeroll.  “I seem to recall something to that effect, yes.”

 

“Well, the thing of it is, I… well, I’m not going to be the Doctor on this particular trip.”

 

The look on River’s face was a cross between irritation and confusion. 

 

He sighed.  He’d been afraid of this.  It sounded so ridiculous when he said it aloud.  “I’m trying to keep a low profile, River.  It’s difficult to maintain the illusion of having died in Utah if I don’t make an effort to leave a smaller footprint on the universe than I did in the past.”

 

“But Sweetie, whoever sent that message sent it to your psychic paper.  I _think_ they might already know who you are.”

 

He shook his head.  “I can’t assume that, River.  Messages have been known to show up on the psychic paper that weren’t intended for me.  Or rather, weren’t intended for only me.  Regardless, I’m not the Doctor this trip, all right?”  He adopted what he hoped was a stern expression, though going by the barely-suppressed smile on River’s lips he’d only managed to look pleading.

 

“Of course, Doctor.  Or – what do I call you?”

 

He hesitated.  “I was the Caretaker last time.  I thought I might use it again.”

 

She smiled fondly and reached out to straighten his bowtie.  “The real question is, who am _I_ going to be?”

 

He grinned.  It was going to be an interesting day.

 

***

 

The TARDIS landed, somewhat to his surprise, in the middle of a bustling town.  Large pack animals drew carts laden with people and goods up and down wide streets, various shops and stalls hummed with activity, and a school had evidently just dismissed classes as dozens of children streamed out of a large building further up the block. 

 

“These don’t look like bones or meadows,” River observed as she stepped out of the TARDIS and closed the doors behind her.  “Where should we start?”

 

The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it again as a man and two women wearing what appeared to be heavy ceremonial robes hurried out of the ornate building across the street from the TARDIS’s landing site, talking animatedly while pointing at the Doctor and River.

 

“I think they’d like to tell us that, Dear,” he replied, adopting his best Hello-I’m-the-Doctor face while firmly reminding himself that for all intents and purposes he _wasn’t_.

 

The voices of their presumed summoners quickly became audible over the din of the street, in no small part because the noise level was suddenly far less loud than it had been.  Clearly, the trio’s behavior (likely combined with the sudden arrival of a blue box in the middle of the walkway) was attracting a significant amount of attention.  As they neared, the sounds of conversation and business continued to drop before sputtering into silence.  Any hope either the Doctor or River harbored about keeping a low profile vanished as hundreds of people paused in their daily activities to watch them with all the intensity of a starving man suddenly catching sight of his favorite meal.

 

It was more than a touch disconcerting.

 

“Are you the one?” the youngest woman among the dignitaries asked as she fairly ran into River.  “Are you?”

 

“I’m sorry – the one what?”  The Doctor assumed his most trustworthy smile, and reminded himself again that he was _not_ the Doctor.  “I’m the Caretaker, and this is my companion, Dr. Strangelove.” He didn’t miss River’s grin as he gave the group her pseudonym.  She was having entirely too much fun with this.

 

Looking more closely at the young woman who had accosted them, he realized with a start that she wasn’t only young by comparison to her companions, who were slowly beginning to catch up, she was actually objectively very young: eighteen, possibly twenty human years old, but certainly no older.  The man and woman behind her had to be at least fifty.

 

“The one who can rid us of the scourge of bone meadows,” she said urgently.  “Did you receive our call for help?”

 

River nodded.  “Yes, we did.  I’m afraid we’re not from this planet, though.  What exactly do you mean by ‘scourge of bone meadows’?”

 

The young woman was taken aback.  “You – you don’t know?  How can you possibly help us if you don’t even know what they _are_?”

 

At this point, the oldest man in the party spoke up.  “Your Grace, we were told that the one to come to our aid would be an offworlder.  Perhaps they do not have bone meadows where they come from.”  He touched her arm gently, as if to soothe her. 

 

The Doctor nodded vigorously.  “Quite right.  Never seen a bone meadow before, much less a scourge of them.  Would it be possible for us to receive some kind of tour?”

 

The older man and woman both tried to cover up their aghast looks, but the young woman’s expression merely turned from shock to determination.  She was clearly accustomed to speaking her mind, and the Doctor became increasingly certain that he was dealing with some sort of hereditary ruler.

 

“I am the Duchess Claudia of Elfenor VII.  You would like to see a bone meadow?  If you are what you claim, and if you swear you will do everything in your power to rid us of this plague, then I will show you myself.”  She turned and began to walk determinedly down the still-quiet street.

 

“Your Grace!” protested the older women.

 

“I will not hear objections, Delvaria,” she responded, maintaining eye contact with the Doctor all the while.  “It must be done, so it will be done, and I will not have anyone risk what I am not willing to sacrifice myself.”

 

River’s brow furrowed.  “Are you implying that merely visiting these bone meadows is dangerous?”

 

“It can be fatal,” replied the older woman, glaring at her. 

 

“So is waiting any longer,” snapped the girl. 

 

***

 

The bone meadows, as it turned out, weren’t far from town at all.  In fact, they found one only blocks away from the TARDIS.

 

“Fascinating,” the Doctor marveled, waving his sonic screwdriver over the perfectly square patch of grass that lay incongruously between a fishmonger and a butcher.  “Simply fascinating.”

 

“You say the building that used to be here simply vanished one day, and this-“ River gestured at the grass, “appeared in its place?”

 

If the patch of meadow hadn’t been laced with several long, white bones, it would have looked positively pastoral.  As it was, however, the overall effect was disconcertedly reminiscent of any number of battlefields River had seen in her years.  Never before had she seen anything similar in the middle of a thriving commercial district, though. 

 

The young woman nodded.  “The grass first.  The bones,” she pointed in their direction, “came the next day.”

 

“What happened to the people who were inside the shop when it happened?” River asked, suspecting that she already knew the answer.

 

“Gone.  We don’t know where.”  The older man—Macris—stepped alongside her.  “The bones, well, as you can see, they don’t belong to our people.  We’re not sure what being could have left them, or why.”

 

The Doctor checked the sonic’s readings one last time before straightening up and joining the group.  “They’re certainly bones, but you’re wrong about them not belonging to your people.  The genetic signatures aren’t a perfect match, but there are elements of human DNA present.”

 

“That’s impossible!” Delvaria protested, slapping one hand against her thigh in disbelief.  “Duchess, I must protest.  It is plain that these outlanders have no idea what the bone meadows are, or how to stop them from spreading.”

 

“Beg pardon, Your Grace,” River interjected, attempting to sound soothing.  In truth, she was sorely tempted to lure Delvaria away and shoot her.  “But the Do-“ she stopped, catching herself before she said his name.  “The Caretaker’s scanner is not likely to be mistaken.  The real question is, who is creating these meadows, and why?”

 

Macris frowned. “This way.”

 

***

 

The Doctor and River found themselves back at the ornate building across the street from where they’d landed the TARDIS.  Macris had taken them down several flights of stairs into a room that reminded the Doctor more than a bit of Winston Churchill’s war room bunkers.  The technology on display—holographic maps, paper photographs, and composite metal furniture--belied the pre-industrial town they had seen earlier, and the Doctor began to wonder just how many things were as they appeared on Elfenor VII.

 

Delvaria glared at them as they inspected a large map of the city dotted with pictures of bone meadows identical to the one they had just seen.  There were over three dozen scattered within the boundary lines, and a handful more at various distances outside the gates.

 

“As you can see,” Macris explained, gesturing toward the map, “we cannot afford to wait much longer to stop the spread of these meadows.  More are appearing every week, sometimes two or three within as many days.”

 

“Back at the one we saw it looked as if you had some idea who was causing them,” the Doctor said.

 

“Yes, we do,” Delvaria spat out.  “Offworlders – like you!”

 

“Delvaria!” the Duchess exclaimed.  “We have no proof that-“

 

“Yes we do, Your Grace!  The message you received-“

 

“There was a message?” River interrupted. 

 

The three dignitaries looked at one another, and the Doctor had a sinking feeling that he and River were being deliberately kept in the dark on a number of salient issues.  He didn’t care for that feeling.

 

“Well, best of luck.  We’ll be off now.”  He turned to take River’s hand, noting with enjoyment the look of shock on her face.  It was nice to know that even after decades of marriage he could still surprise her.

 

“You’re what?  But, _no_!” the Duchess cried.  “You can’t just leave!”

 

“Actually, I can, and I am.  I don’t deal in secrets,” he felt rather than saw River’s reaction.  Well, Rule One.  “And I don’t do business with those who do, so I suggest you tell me the complete truth about the bone meadows immediately.”

 

For a moment, the Duchess looked as if she wanted to protest.  Then her shoulders slumped, and a look of mingled grief and guilt swept across her face. 

 

“It’s all my fault,” she whispered, and burst into tears.

 

***

 

“It started over a year ago when we first received a message from offworld,” Macris explained.  They were all sitting around a large table over which a map of the city was projected.  “You must understand, Caretaker, when the Duchess’s great-grandfather founded this colony, his first edict was to ban interaction with anyone from the outside.  Our ancestors even restricted the use of certain technologies thought to be tied to offworld travel.”

 

The Duchess, who had composed herself again, broke in.  “He was not a tolerant or even terribly practical man in many respects, it’s true, but his reason for banning interaction with outsiders was originally based more in logic than in prejudice.  There was a plague sweeping across the sector, and he felt a quarantine was the only chance his people would have to survive.”  She shook her head slowly.  “By the time my father came to power we all suspected that the sickness had passed, but by then the fear of contamination from offworld within the colony had become too powerful.”

 

Macris patted her hand affectionately.  “Your father worked very hard to try to dispel that fear.”

 

“Yes, he did.  Then he died.”  She turned back to the Doctor and River.  “You can obviously tell that I’m too young have ruled independently for long.  Macris and Delvaria were my father’s two chief councilors, and they have been instrumental in every decision I have made since I became Duchess – except for one.  Six months ago I received a message at my private terminal.  It was from an offworlder who claimed to be interested in establishing trade with the city.  He offered advanced technology, plans for interstellar propulsion systems, and medicines that would reassure our people that no plague could ever again drive us to the brink of extinction.”

 

“Sounds too good to be true,” the Doctor observed.  “What did you do?”

 

“What could I do?  His offer was contingent on my allowing him to personally visit the city in order to open negotiations.  I agreed.”  Her shoulders sagged, and the Doctor felt a surge of sympathy for such a young person who had been required to take on a larger burden than she was prepared to bear. 

 

Macris broke in.  “You’ve seen our city, Caretaker.  We have no shields, nothing to prevent outsiders from entering.  Our laws forbid it, of course, but we lack the technology to enforce them.  We have only escaped notice from offworld for this long because we are too small and too poor to be of interest.”

 

River’s brow furrowed as she considered.  “So why was this offworlder who contacted the Duchess so interested in establishing trade with you?  No offense, Your Grace, but I haven’t seen anything since I’ve been here that isn’t readily available on virtually any other world in the sector.”

 

Delvaria finally spoke, though the scowl never left her face.  “An obvious question with an answer you couldn’t possibly hope to understand.”

 

River didn’t hesitate.  “Try me.”

 

“He didn’t want our goods, he wanted our people.”  Delvaria spat the words out as if they were poisonous.  “The only asset we truly have, and he wanted it so very badly he would have said anything – done anything – to get it.”  Her brows were firmly knitted, and she looked for all the world as if she’d like nothing better than to take her anger out on the Doctor and River. 

 

“Is there something special about your people?” the Doctor asked.  Before they could answer, he had whipped out his sonic and commenced scanning them. 

 

“No…no…” he switched settings, “No again.  Nothing extraordinary at all.  You’re human – no odd mutations or aberrant DNA of any kind.”

 

The Duchess sighed.  “Delvaria has maintained from the beginning that there must be something about us the trader wanted because the day he arrived was the day the first bone meadow arrived and the first of our people vanished.”

 

Delvaria nodded vigorously.  “It cannot be a coincidence that his presence coincided with the beginning of this crisis.  The first place to be affected was a home, Caretaker.  The family who lived there vanished in an instant.  Five people, just gone.”  Her eyes shone with tears for those who had been lost.

 

“What happened to the trader?” the Doctor asked.  “He left, I presume.”

 

The Duchess nodded.  “Yes, within two hours.  He pledged to return the following day with samples of the goods he wished to trade, but he never arrived.  At first I thought something might have happened to him, but then I received this message.”  She pushed a button on the projector, and the face of a middle-aged human man wearing a smug smirk appeared. 

 

“Hello, Duchess Claudia.  Thank you again for the delightful visit to your world.  I found it quiet…informative.  By now you have no doubt discovered the gift I left behind.  Do nothing and tell no one about me and it will be the only one you receive.  If you violate this instruction more will follow.”

 

The recording ended.  The Doctor drummed his fingers on the table and considered the empty air where the projection had been with narrowed eyes for a long moment.  River was the first to speak.

 

“I assume that either you said nothing and the bone meadows continued to appear or you did speak about him to someone and they started after that.”

 

The Duchess nodded.  “I didn’t see the message until after I had already confessed my duplicity to Macris and Delvaria.  Since then a bone meadow has appeared in some part of the city at least once every week.”  Her eyes filled with tears again, and Macris gently patted her hand as she struggled to compose herself.  “Please, Caretaker, you must help us.  Three hundred and eighty two of our citizens have been lost to the bone meadows already.  Many of our people have already left the city to start new colonies elsewhere, but the bone meadows have followed them.  At this rate, we won’t survive another two or three years.”

 

“Are you telling me the whole truth?” the Doctor asked, looking sternly into the Duchess’s eyes.  “Because if you aren’t, anything I do may make the situation worse rather than better.”

 

The Duchess nodded earnestly, but both River and the Doctor caught the momentary glance Macris and Delvaria exchanged behind her back. 

 

“Then yes, we will help you.  On one condition, though.”  He held up a finger in case they were unclear on the number of restrictions he was placing on his involvement.

 

“Anything.”  The Duchess’s eyes were fervent with hope, though Macris and Delvaria had schooled their countenances into ones of detached interest. 

 

“We work alone.  You are not to interfere with or monitor our activities until we’re ready to discuss our findings with you.”

 

“Agreed,” the Duchess said, and River could immediately see why she had gotten herself into trouble with the so-called trader in the first place.  The girl was far too trusting and far too impulsive for her position.  _Proper advisors_ , she considered, _would have trained her to resist those impulses long ago_.

 

***

 

“Do you trust them?” River asked quietly as they stepped into the corridor and away from the group.

 

“Macris and Delvaria?  No.  Do you?”

 

“Not a chance.”  She grinned.  “Makes things interesting, don’t you think?”

 

His smile was slower, and he tweaked a curl, wrapping it around his long forefinger as he spoke.  “They may betray us, you know,” he murmured, suddenly wishing that the others weren’t just around the corner.  “They know much more than they’re telling – I doubt the duchess is even aware of the fact that they’re hiding something about the situation.”

 

“Isn’t it exciting?”  Her eyes darkened, and she caught his hand in her own and pressed his wrist to her lips.

 

“We need to get back to that meadow,” and with a tap on her nose and a light kiss to her knuckles, he turned back toward the conference room.  “Coming, Dear?”

 

***

 

 

The street was quiet when they emerged from the building, only this time it appeared that the regular close of the business day had engendered the peace rather than their presence. 

 

“Good.  Don’t exactly need an audience for this,” the Doctor murmured to River.  “Now, where’s your trowel?”

 

“My what?” of all the things the Doctor had ever asked her for, a trowel had never come up before.

 

“Your trowel.  Isn’t that what you archaeologists carry?  For digging and…things?” He waved his arms in a vague shoveling motion.

 

River’s eyes twinkled.  “Things?  Such as…?”

 

“Well there must be more to it than just digging, River!  You can’t expect me to know how you people operate.  Fiddling with history and making up stories to suit yourselves – not exactly my style, you know.”

 

She laughed.  “Yes, dear, I have a trowel.  It’s back on the TARDIS, though.  Are you planning to do some digging, then?”  She started walking toward the blue box, trying to remember where she had last seen her toolbox.  Had it been in the fourth cupboard in the upper corridor, or under her bed?

 

He smiled.  “Oh yes.  Time to find out exactly what’s underneath these bone meadows so we can open negotiations with the man responsible for generating them.”

 

“Does that mean you know who he is, then?”  River turned back to look at him with one eyebrow raised.  The Doctor had encountered more than a fair share of people over the years, but to run into one particular individual in a time zone and location he’d never visited before would be an extraordinary coincidence.  Also, it would likely devolve into a somewhat sticky situation vis a vis his plan to remain incognito.

 

The Doctor shook his head.  “Not in so many words, no.  But I have a very good idea of how we’ll find him once we have what we need.”

 

“Then I suggest we fetch my trowel.  Oh, and Doctor?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“I suggest you try to locate one of your own.  Excavation generally isn’t a one-woman job.”

 

***

 

Hours later and covered in dirt, the Doctor ran his sonic screwdriver for the dozenth time over the mound of earth he and River had just dug from the bone meadow.  Or rather, bone former-meadow as it could now properly be called.  He had done this fruitlessly every time they had removed more than a few inches of soil from underneath the grass, and the process was beginning to wear on both their nerves.  Neither could even say exactly what they were looking for.

 

“A-ha!” he shouted, jumping up in glee.

 

“What?” she demanded, hurrying to peer at the sonic’s readings.

 

“Exactly what I thought I’d find here.  It’s a tiny transponder, one too small and too deeply buried to show up when I scanned it earlier.”

 

Realization dawned over River’s expression, and her grin matched his.  “The transponder is for a transmat.  And if it’s weak enough for the sonic not to pick up earlier, that means –“

 

“That means it’s too weak to work if the transmat isn’t actually in orbit around the planet.”

 

“Or landed on it.  Doctor – do you think the Duchess’s ‘trader’ is still here?  Cloaked?” 

 

“I’m counting on it.”  His grin began to fade as he studied the readings more closely.  River had taken out her own handheld scanner and was passing it over the area, looking for anything else they might have missed before.

 

“Doctor?” she asked, waving to get his attention.  “Come look at this.”  She had turned her attention to the bones, which, aside from verifying that their DNA signature was at least partly human, they had largely ignored.

 

“Now that _is_ interesting,” he said, handing her the sonic as he took hold of her scanner to look at the readings more closely.  “Did you scan these earlier as well?”

 

“No, I was letting you do the impressive wand-waving, sweetie,” she said drily.  “Let’s see if the sonic agrees…” she trailed off as she scanned the bones again, as carefully as she could.  “Hm…yes.  There’s definitely a change from earlier.”

 

“River,” he looked between the two devices, confirming that the data was the same.  “I think we may have a small complication on our hands.”

 

“If by ‘small complication’ you mean that these bones are _growing_ , then yes, Sweetie, I would have to agree with you.”  She looked up at him.  “Any thoughts?”

 

“Several.  Come along, Doctor Song, we need to have a conversation with Macris and Delvaria.  One _without_ the Duchess present.”  He took hold of her hand, and they marched swiftly back toward the government center.  There wasn’t much time to lose.

 

***

 

By sheer chance, Macris was exiting the building just as they approached.  Clearly startled by their appearance, he still managed to greet them with a remarkable amount of aplomb.  _A consummate politician_ , the Doctor observed, unsurprised but slightly grateful at this small bit of confirmation that his theory about exactly what was going on here was correct. 

 

“Caretaker!  Doctor Strangelove!  Forgive me – the Duchess has gone back to her residence for the evening.  We didn’t anticipate hearing from you again until morning.”  He gestured toward the door.  “Have you found anything yet?  I can call her back at a moment’s notice.”  He reached for his pocket as if to take hold of a communication device.  The Doctor reached out and stayed his hand before he could retrieve it.

 

“That won’t be necessary,” he said in a carefully controlled voice. 

 

_Macris_ , thought River, _should be careful of that voice_. 

 

“Is Delvaria still inside?  We have some questions for you both.” River said instead, doing her best to sound innocuous.  It didn’t come easily.

 

“I believe she’s just finishing some paperwork.  Would you like to come in?”

 

“We would.” The Doctor’s tone had grown firmer, and River squeezed his hand in warning.  It wouldn’t do to tip Macris off that they suspected anything just yet.  He squeezed back, and said slightly more lightly, “If it’s convenient.”

 

“Of course, of course.  You understand we are at your complete disposal.”  Macris turned and unlocked the door as he spoke. 

 

They followed Macris down a quiet corridor past darkened meeting rooms and what appeared to be a formal audience chamber before coming to the only lighted room in the building.  Delvaria’s office was far smaller and less forbidding than River would have expected, given the woman’s position and earlier demeanor.  The walls were hung with bright paintings, and a simple desk with a rudimentary data terminal was the only piece of furniture in the room save for two scuffed chairs.  

 

“Delvaria?” Macris said softly, clearly not wanting to startle his colleague as she worked.  “The Caretaker and Doctor Strangelove have something they would like to discuss with us.”

 

She looked up and frowned.  “The Duchess requested that she be present when they returned.  Have you called her back?”

 

“Actually,” the Doctor interjected, “we need to speak with you and Macris privately, if you please.”

 

Delvaria’s scowl turned quizzical, but she did not attempt to call the Duchess.  “Won’t you sit down, Caretaker?” she gestured toward the chairs.

 

“Thank you,” he said, collapsing into the nearest one.  “It’s been a bit of a job sorting through the meadow, as you can probably tell.”  He brushed a bit of dirt off his jacket sleeve, pointedly ignoring Delvaria’s sneer as her carpet was soiled.

 

“You…’sorted through’ it?” Macris tried to sound less upset than he clearly was.

 

“By which he means dug up, yes,” River confirmed.  “It was the only way to break through the dampening effect of the grass and dirt.  Really, excellent job with those, by the by.  Ingenious, really.”

 

“I’m afraid I don’t follow your meaning,” Delvaria said cautiously, leaning back in her own chair.

 

“Oh, sorry, did we forget to mention that we know you two are behind at least part of the bone meadow shenanigans?  Not sure that’s the correct word, ‘shenanigans’ – I expect it depends largely on whether or not those people who disappeared are actually dead, or if they’re simply being held captive somewhere.”  The Doctor grinned, all traces of exhaustion wiped from his expression. 

 

“We – how dare you!” Delvaria shouted, leaping up from her seat. 

 

“We had nothing to do with –“ Macris cried simultaneously, thrusting one hand over his heart as if he had just received a grievous shock.  “The Duchess will not stand for these kinds of accusations!”

 

“No, I don’t imagine she would,” River observed calmly.  “Seeing as how the two of you have turned her into the perfect little puppet.  I’d just like to know whether her father’s death was just a conveniently-timed accident, or if the two of you didn’t have some hand in it.”

 

Macris was turning purple and Delvaria was sputtering at River’s accusation when the Doctor cut in.  “Time enough for that later.  Right now what we’d really like to discuss is your involvement with the bone meadows.  We found the transponder, and we know the ship can’t be far.  If you’d be so kind as to tell us where it’s located we’ll just be on our way.”  He paused, the smile fading from his expression as he allowed the words to sink in.  This was the part where he always hoped the people involved would make the right decision – to give in to the inevitable and do as he requested.  He really hated the next bit if they didn’t.

 

Both appeared inarticulate with rage, but after a moment Macris appeared to gain at least some measure of control over himself.  “We need to discuss this.  Delvaria, a moment?”

 

She shook her head at him in disbelief.  “ _Macris_!  You can’t possibly be considering-“

 

“They _know_ , Delvaria.  Caretaker, if we could have some privacy?”

 

“Of course,” he agreed, rising to his feet and walking toward the door.  “We’ll just wait out here.”

 

River followed him, feeling a bit dejected at the possibility that the two conspirators were just going to follow instructions and give them the information they had requested.  She hated it when that happened.

 

“That went well,” the Doctor said softly, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

 

“You mean that went about as dully as possible.”  She pouted, leaning against the wall.  “What kind of conspirators just give up like that?”

 

He considered her for a moment and opened his mouth to reply just as the sound of an alarm began to ring throughout the building.  

“Apparently, my dear, conspirators who _aren’t_ planning to give up.  Come on!” he seized her hand and began to run.

 

They had only made it a few yards before they heard Delvaria’s voice ring out loudly above the alarm klaxon.  “They went that way!  Follow them!” Booted footsteps – quite a few by the sound of things, began to pound behind them.

 

“Still think this is dull?” he yelled back at River.

 

“Not on your life!” she shouted back, grinning at him.

 

They ran for another ten yards, the sound of soldiers closing in behind them growing louder all the while.  “We’re not going to outrun them, Sweetie!” she said. 

 

“No, I don’t imagine that we will!  Any ideas?”  He turned his head briefly to look at her before redirecting his attention back toward the corridor ahead.  The last thing they needed was for him to trip because he wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.

 

“Several.  Most of them involve shooting as many of them as I can before I run out of ammunition.”

 

“Let’s try to avoid that unless absolutely necessary.”

 

“All right then, follow me,” and with that she abruptly cut in front of him, dashing into what appeared to be a darkened conference room.  The Doctor, stumbling slightly, hooked a hand around the doorjamb and swung himself inside just before his feet threatened to shoot out from underneath him.  Slamming the door behind him and locking it with the sonic, he turned breathlessly toward her.  “So what’s the plan?”

 

“I’m thinking!” she said irritably, running her hands over the windowpane.  “Well, the good news is that we’re still on the first floor, so jumping out the window won’t result in serious injury.”

 

“What’s the bad news?” he asked as the soldiers who had been following them began to pound on the door. 

 

“There are more troops headed our way out there.”  She pointed out the window, and with a scowl the Doctor realized that she was correct.  At least fifty soldiers were jogging down the otherwise deserted street.  Clearly, Macris or Delvaria had summoned them somehow long before the Doctor and River had tipped their hands.  There was no way they could climb out the window without attracting their notice, and no crowd of civilians milling about for them to lose themselves in.

 

“Then I guess we won’t be heading outside.”  He glanced back at the rattling door.  “Any other suggestions?  I do believe we’re about to have company.”

 

She grinned, exhilarated by the chase.  He was momentarily stunned by how brilliant she looked – this was the part she thrived on, and truth be told, as much as he preferred peaceful solutions, he didn’t exactly dislike it either.  “Always, sweetie.  Here, give me a leg up.” She held up her foot, and he cupped it in his hands, lifting her toward the (thankfully low) ceiling.  Without hesitating, she pushed aside a ceiling tile and pulled herself up.

 

“It’s not terribly study, but it should hold our weight for a few minutes,” she called down, reaching a hand toward him.  Gripping it tightly, the Doctor pulled himself up, feeling grateful that he wasn’t in one of his stockier regenerations.  Say what they would about this body, boniness had its advantages.

 

Hurrying to beat both the guards and physics, the pair crawled across the vast expanse of ventilation ducts and sub-ceiling toward the other side of the building.  Neither needed to say that with any luck there wouldn’t be any (or at least as many) soldiers to impede their exit over there.

 

And, if there were, at least River still had all her ammunition and very good aim.

 

***

 

 

“So where to now?” River asked breathlessly as they rested for a moment in a small copse of trees.  They had, somewhat unexpectedly, met with no resistance as they quietly exited the building ( _Really_ , River thought, _someone should speak to them about how to properly establish a perimeter_ ) and made their way to a nearby park.

 

“We need to find that ship.  Hang on,” he pulled the transponder out of his pocket and scanned it quickly with the sonic.  “It’s not transmitting.  The ship must have to send it a signal to bring it out of dormancy.  Maybe if I just…” he pushed buttons and aimed the sonic at it again, trying to find the right frequency.  Meanwhile, River pulled out her handheld. 

 

“Ah, sweetie?” she asked, checking her readings.

 

“Just a moment, River.  I think I’ve almost got it.”

 

“Be that as it may, I’d suggest-“

 

“Just a _moment_.  Really, you’re so impulsive.”

 

“Have it your way,” she pocketed her scanner and started walking further into the copse.

 

“Wait, River!” he jogged to catch up.  “What are you doing?  For all you know there are more soldiers coming from that direction!”

 

“Actually, there aren’t, which I know because I checked for life signs.  As for what I’m doing, as I was trying to tell you just now, the ship is half a mile in that direction.”  She pointed, and didn’t bother to hide the smug smile currently spreading across her face.

 

“You…but how?” he sputtered, impressed and curious.

 

“You’re not the only one with impressive personal electronics, Sweetie,” she kissed him on the cheek, then started off again.  “We need to hurry if we want to have any chance of catching the Duchess’s trader before he receives word from Macris and Delvaria that we’ve smoked him out.”

 

There really wasn’t much else to do but kiss her at that point.  Which was exactly what the Doctor proceeded to do.

 

***

 

They crept up to the cloaked ship as carefully as possible considering that they couldn’t exactly see the thing.  River’s scanner was picking up faint traces of radiation, which gave them a general idea of where it was, but nothing more specific.  A rather large area of depressed earth and grass indicated the size of the landing gear, but not the body of the ship itself.

 

“Be _careful_ ,” the Doctor hissed as River crept closer through the underbrush, pulling herself forward on her elbows and forearms.

 

“Where’s the fun in that?” she whispered back with a grin, holding up the scanner.  “It’s no use – I’m not getting clearer readings with this.  We’re going to need to get him to take down the cloak somehow.”

 

The Doctor considered his options.  If he got very, very lucky (and worked at it for an hour or three) he might be able to jury-rig the sonic to emit exactly the right frequency and cipher to de-cloak the ship.  Or he could just try the direct route.

 

“Right then,” he said softly to himself.  “River?  Stay down and wait for my signal.”  Without another word (and pointedly ignoring her sputtering protests) he stood up and began to shout as loudly as he could.  “Hello there!  Strange person in a cloaked ship!  I know you’re there, and I know you’re responsible for the bone meadows!  Hello!  Standing right out here!  Shouting your secrets at the top of my lungs!  Any-“ and without finishing his final thought, the Doctor dematerialized in front of her eyes.

 

“I hate him,” River muttered under her breath, pulling her scanner back up and looking for any sign that he was sending her a signal.  She could almost hear his “No you don’t,” and wondered if there would ever come a day when he didn’t drive her to distraction.

 

***

 

The Doctor squinted, struggling to adjust his eyes to the darkness.  He had no idea where on the ship he was, but it felt small and stuffy, and based on the fact that his eyes weren’t adjusting it was very, very dark. 

 

“Brilliant,” he muttered under his breath.  “I’ve been transported into a cupboard.”  He reached out his right hand and pressed it firmly against a wall less than a foot from where he was standing.  Reaching out his left, he was less than surprised to find another wall no more than ten inches on his other side.  “A small cupboard,” he amended, removing his hands and digging in his pockets for the sonic.

 

“I think you’ll find I took the liberty of transporting your scanning device into my cockpit,” said a disembodied voice from above his head.  “Fascinating little thing – never seen anything quite like it.”

 

“Hello there!” the Doctor said, trying to sound far less irritated than he felt.   _Never let them see they’ve got you at a disadvantage_ , he reminded himself.  “Yes, it’s rather unique, I’m afraid.  I’m assuming you’re the so-called trader who’s behind this bone meadow business, then?”

 

A chuckle sounded over the intercom, then silence.  The Doctor tried again.

 

“I’m fully aware that you’ve been working with the Duchess’s councilors, though I’m at a loss as to exactly why.  I don’t suppose you’d mind filling me in on that detail while I wait?” Thrusting his hands into his pockets again, the Doctor searched for anything that might serve to provide him with some light.  Cupboards had doors, and even without the sonic he knew he could work his way out of this one if he just had the right materials…

 

The laugh sounded again, less amused this time.  “Yes, they’re not exactly subtle, are they?  If the Duchess wasn’t such a mindless little thing she would have figured that out months ago.  But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

 

The Doctor shook his head.  He had no idea who this man was, but he didn’t appear to be stupid.  He’d plainly been in contact with Macris and Delvaria and was only willing to confirm the parts of the story that the Doctor had already figured out.  If he’d talked to them, though, he probably knew about River.  A brief jolt of fear struck through him.  River was good – she was clever, and if he knew anything it was that she was already figuring out a way to get inside the ship without being caught.  He’d been hoping for the element of surprise, though, or at least a less intelligent adversary. 

 

Putting thoughts of his wife out of his mind for a moment, the Doctor once again concentrated on searching his pockets.  “Well, it wasn’t all that difficult to figure out that she was completely unprepared for the job.  She’s very young, isn’t she?  Attractive too.  Not surprising that she’s unmarried – a husband would want to be involved in running the colony, and Macris and Delvaria likely couldn’t risk competition, now could they?  I’m a bit surprised they didn’t put you up for the job, actually.  I saw you, down there, you know.” 

 

He paused briefly as his fingers brushed across a promisingly sharp edge – yes, it was a bent paperclip.  He vaguely remembered Amy shoving it into his hand the last time he’d visited them and she’d been trying to clean out the tray of her pencil sharpener.

 

Another laugh, this one slightly more bitter than the last.  “Really, Caretaker, is that the best you can do?  Try to make me jealous or resentful that I’m being kept at arm’s length from the seat of power on this pathetic little planet?  Trust me, it’s not going to work.”

 

This time it was the Doctor’s turn to laugh, though he did it silently, still searching through his right pocket while he held the paperclip in his left.  The man plainly wanted to talk, even though he knew he shouldn’t.  The Doctor wondered how long it had been since he’d had a conversation with anyone except Macris and Delvaria.  Likely six months or more, depending on how long he’d been here before sending the message to the Duchess.

 

“No, I don’t imagine that it will.  Still, you can hardly blame me for trying.  Now, if I were a betting man, I’d say that you’ve been stuck here far longer than the bone meadows have been popping up.  Were you stranded here, or are you choosing to stay until something specific happens?”  Again, his fingers closed around a promising-feeling item.  Smooth paper, slightly powdery – chewing gum!  Just one stick, though.  He’d have preferred two, but he was in no position to complain.  He kept his hand firmly in his pocket as he unwrapped it, hoping that the man wouldn’t be able to hear the crinkle of the wrapper.  Quickly, he popped the gum in his mouth and chewed, knowing that he only had as long as the man’s next statement to get it into an acceptable level of chewy stickiness.

 

“Nice try.  Let’s just say that my stay here will prove highly profitable regardless of its duration, and I’m not talking about the Duchess.  I’m far more interested in how _you_ got here, though.  My scanners are set to passive mode, but I would have been able to detect another ship landing, and you’re plainly not from around here.  How exactly did you and your companion arrive?”

 

The Doctor shook his head.  The man definitely knew about River, then.  He didn’t know about the TARDIS, which would seem to indicate that either Macris and Delvaria were deliberately keeping that information from him or they didn’t consider it relevant to his mission.  Regardless, he’d exploit the man’s curiosity any way he could.

 

“I have my ways.  Honestly, I’m just impressed you’ve managed to keep yourself entertained in this tiny ship as long as you have.  I don’t imagine you’re allowed to wander about, after all.”  Having fitted the chewing gum around the end of the paperclip, the Doctor was now feeling around the corners of the cupboard, trying to determine which was the door.  None felt loose, and he couldn’t detect a draft or gap anywhere.  Then it occurred to him – the ceiling.

 

By this point, the man had stopped chuckling.  His tone had become downright agitated when he finally replied.  “How I spend my time is none of your concern.  Now, why don’t you tell me something for a change – say, where your friend might be right now?”

 

“Really, it’s rude to talk about someone as if they aren’t in the room,” River’s voice purred, and the Doctor jumped – for joy or because she’d startled him, he couldn’t tell.  “Sweetie, just stop whatever you’re doing.  It’s not going to work, and I’ll have your sonic in a moment.  That is, if our new friend here wants to keep both of his legs in good working order.” 

 

He could see her in his mind, bold smirk on her lips, gun aimed directly at his captor. 

 

A pause, then a deep sigh from the man.  The familiar click of handcuffs sounded, and the Doctor felt a pang of regret that they’d probably have to leave them behind when they left.  He was rather fond of that pair.  Moments later, the Doctor felt a clicking vibration under the heels of his boots, and in the split second between when the door opened under them and when he fell to the floor below, he realized that the exit hadn’t been in the ceiling after all.

 

***

 

River shook her head fondly as he rubbed at the sore spot on his knee for the third time in as many minutes.  “Need me to kiss it better again?” she asked, typing another command into the ship’s computer terminal.

 

“No thank you,” he said primly, trying to look more dignified than he felt.  Really, who kept someone captive in a cupboard _in the ceiling_?  It was easily one of the more absurd prisons he’d ever found himself in, and it didn’t help that River had doubled over laughing when she’d seen his gum-and-paperclip contraption.

 

They both worked quietly for a moment, ignoring the shouts coming from the cupboard where they’d stashed the owner of the ship while they worked.  They were going to need him once they left – and the Doctor wasn’t looking forward to keeping the man contained once they started the walk back to town – but for now at least they could keep him out of the way.

 

Unfortunately, the ship’s database was being particularly stubborn about allowing them access to any sensitive files.  They’d been able to determine that it had last refueled nine months ago in the Denbrian system, which was just a short distance from Elfenor VII.  The man had plainly come straight here, leading the Doctor to believe that he’d landed deliberately, planning to use the fuel to maintain life support and computer functionality for an extended duration.  River disagreed, pointing out that a ship on passive mode wouldn’t need such a large (and expensive) fuel load to operate for a century, much less a few months.

 

“I could always threaten to shoot him again,” River offered, sounding as frustrated as the Doctor was starting to feel. 

 

“No shooting, River,” he chided.  “Give me a few more minutes and then we’ll talk alternative strategies.” He aimed the sonic at the computer again, shifting frequencies, and this time the computer responded with a welcoming chime.  “I’m in!”

 

She leaped up from her chair and quickly crossed the small room to his side.  “Search for mission logs,” she instructed.

 

“That never would have occurred to me, dear,” he said sarcastically.

 

“I know, sweetie,” she responded, kissing his cheekbone lightly. 

 

Dozens of logs appeared before their eyes, and as they read through them, a sinking feeling began to grow in the pit of the Doctor’s stomach. 

 

“We don’t have much time, do we?” River asked quietly.

 

“No, we most certainly don’t.  I’m going to download this.  You get him out, and make sure he knows that you mean business if he doesn’t talk once we reach the Duchess.”  He looked at her grimly.  “My only question is _why_.”

 

***

 

River poked the man in the back with the barrel of her gun while the Doctor peered into the copse of trees through which they would have to walk in order to get back to the city center.  That was, if they were planning to walk, which they weren’t.

 

“This is your last opportunity to tell us who you are and what the bone meadows are really for.  We’ll be in the city in a matter of moments, and I really don’t think you’re going to like what’s waiting for your there.  If you help us, we’ll help you.  If not…” she left the implied threat hanging and waited for his response.

 

“I’ll tell you my name, but that’s it.  And I’ll only do that much for a guarantee of protection.” He twisted around, attempting to catch her eye, but River dug the gun further into his spine and he stopped moving.

 

“No deal,” the Doctor said quietly.  “It’s all or nothing, I’m afraid.”  He kept his tone steady and his eyes firmly fixed on the man.  He didn’t want him to try to look behind his back again and catch a glimpse of the very real fear in River’s expression.  They needed to get information out of him now, because once they got back to the city it was anyone’s guess how long it might take before they would be able to extract it from Macris or Delvaria.  Time was not on their side.

 

The man gave the Doctor a steady, challenging gaze for one minute, then two, finally, nearing the three minute mark something broke, and he looked away.  “Fine.  I’ll tell you what I know, but it isn’t the full story.  Only Macris and Delvaria know that.”

 

River eased up a bit on her gun.  “Go ahead, we’re listening.”

 

“Okay, it’s like this.  My name is Yeris Favlor.  I come from Acturhl, in the Madelian Confederacy.”

 

“You’re an ecological engineer,” River breathed, suddenly understanding if not everything, then at least a large piece of the puzzle.

 

“Yes.  Our primary exports are genetically engineered ecological rarities – extinct or nearly extinct species.  We can extract any weaknesses in the DNA that caused the extinction in the first place, then the species’ planet of origin puts in an order for however many members of the species they need in order to start a breeding program, we deliver, they pay.”  He shrugged, as if such happenings were commonplace.  To him, they probably were.

 

“Pay quite a bit, I expect,” the Doctor said.  “Go on.  Why bone meadows?  Why this planet?”

 

“Well, you see, we don’t exactly share our trade secrets with just anyone.  In fact, only a few hundred of our own people know exactly how the process really works.  Some species are easy to engineer.  Plant life, for example, can almost always be grown in a lab.  Reptilian life forms are similar.  Mammalian life, however, is different.  Sometimes it works, but more often than not in recent years we’ve been unable to force-grow some of the species we’re contracted to deliver.”  He shook his head, remembering.  “It’s not pretty when a subject goes wrong.  We had to find a more stable alternative to our labs.”

 

“Bone meadows?” River guessed.

 

“That’s what they became, yes.  You see, the underlying flaw in our lab growths had to do with unstable and incomplete DNA.  Understand, we mostly get requests for species that haven’t been gone long.  Sometimes, though, we receive requests for growths of long-extinct animals.  Some are for zoos specializing in rare creatures, others for collectors.  These are people willing to pay _big_ money; far more than we’re offered by most planetary governments.  When one comes in we simply can’t say no!”  He stopped briefly, regained his composure, and continued.  “I don’t know exactly how we found out about this place, but over a year ago I was instructed to fuel up this ship, fly it to Elfenor VII, and await further instructions from some local contacts.”

 

“Guess who?” River asked drily while the Doctor simply shook his head.

 

“Exactly.  Once I got here, they explained that for a fee, they were willing to ‘donate’ genetic material to help us get the DNA sequences for our orders stabilized.  I didn’t realize exactly what the donations entailed until they had me meet the Duchess for the first time.”  His eyes looked pleading, as if he wanted some kind of forgiveness from them.  The Doctor doubted that he was as hapless a pawn as he claimed, but assuming most of the story was true, it explained rather a lot.

 

“Do you realize that the bones are growing at a rapid rate?” he asked.  “It’s an exponential rate, actually, which means that they’ll be full-sized and ready for harvest in a matter of hours?”  Yeris shook his head, and the look of naked terror in his eyes told the Doctor he was telling the truth.  “What’s going to happen then?”

 

“They’re going to keep growing.  Not in size anymore, but the actual animal itself will start to form.  The soil here and the grass I transplant as part of the culturing process combined with the genetic material from the people we… well  – it’s the perfect medium for the type of growth we do.  The animals don’t start out as embryos – they grow into fully-formed adults.  Once the initial growth stage has hit its critical point it’s a matter of hours before they’re ready for transport.” 

 

“And what sorts of animals are growing right in the center of that city?” The Doctor’s voice was hard.

 

“Some kind of carnivore.  Big.  At least twelve yards tall, and as many long.”

 

“Then we don’t have much time to waste.”  With that, River nodded at the Doctor, who placed his hand and Yeris’s on her vortex manipulator.  “Be warned, you’re about to be very sick.”

 

***

 

 

The street was eerily quiet when they arrived.  As predicted, Yeris promptly vomited, thankfully missing River’s shoes.  Before he could fully recover, though, the Doctor yanked him toward the Duchess’s residence.

 

“Why didn’t you land us inside?” he asked River irritably.

 

“And risk setting down right in the middle of a pack of those soldiers?  Not smart, sweetie.  Never land inside a place unless you’re completely sure it’s either empty or full of friendlies.  I only risked it with the ship because I knew you were trapped and probably about to do something incredibly unwise to escape.”  As she spoke, they arrived at the doors, which the Doctor handily unlocked.  They stepped inside, met by an expectedly luxurious entryway dominated by a large staircase leading up to the second floor.

 

“Duchess Claudia?” He shouted at the top of his voice.  River winced.  Hopefully Her Excellency didn’t keep many guards at home.  “Duchess?  It’s the Do- Caretaker!  I need to speak with you at once!  Your city isn’t safe!”

 

A door above them slammed, and they heard the sound of a (thankfully singular) pair of feet running toward the staircase.  “Caretaker?  Is it really you?  Macris said-“ she stopped, a horrified look on her face as she recognized Yeris.  “ _You_!”

 

He tried to take a step back, but River’s grip was too strong.  The Duchess darted down the stairs, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “ _You did this!_ ”

 

“Please, Duchess, you need to listen to me,” the Doctor gently took her arm, but she pulled out of his grasp. 

 

“No.  We lost another twelve people to his bone meadows today.  Caretaker, Macris and Delvaria told me you and Doctor Strangelove were in the building when it disappeared!  I thought you’d been killed!  Does -“ the look on her face turned joyous as she considered them.  “Does this mean that the others who disappeared are alive as well?”

 

River shook her head, hating to be the bearer of two pieces of very distressing news.  “I’m afraid not.  Duchess, the Caretaker and I weren’t anywhere near any buildings that vanished today  Macris and Delvaria lied to you.  What’s more, they’ve been in collusion with Mr. Favlor the whole time.”

 

The Duchess’s face froze in a horrified expression for several moments.  She blinked, but didn’t move otherwise.  The Doctor waited for her to process the information, considering what he would do if she didn’t believe them.  It was entirely possible she wouldn’t.  She’d known him and River for all of a day, but Macris and Delvaria had likely been in her life since she was born. 

 

“I know,” she said, her voice wavering as she plainly struggled against the impulse to burst into tears.  River’s jaw dropped.

 

“You know?” the Doctor asked, incredulous.  Of all her possible responses, he hadn’t even considered this one.

 

“It was just too perfect, wasn’t it?  An offworld trader arriving just after Macris mentioned that it was time for me to prove myself as an independent leader to my people, the bone meadows creating a crisis that forced me to keep relying on them for guidance long after they both should have retired because the people’s confidence in me was so shaken, Delvaria telling me to send a message offworld for help but then acting so surprised and hostile when someone actually answered it, the news that the two of you had been killed… I’m not stupid, Caretaker.  I know I don’t act like it all the time, but I was well-trained by my father not to blindly trust those around me when the facts don’t add up.”  She took a deep breath, blinked the last tears out of her eyes, and straightened her shoulders.  “Tell me everything.”

 

***

 

They were too late. 

 

The Doctor heard the first screams from terrified citizens as soon as they left the Duchess’s home, and a deep, resounding roar followed.  He exchanged a look with River.

 

“Okay, new plan.  Duchess, we’re going to need to circumvent the streets.  Do your soldiers have weapons?  Guns, that sort of thing?”

 

She nodded sharply, casting a fearful look in the direction of the shouting.  “I can’t run, Caretaker.  My people need me.”

 

“And they’ll have you.  I promise, we’re not leaving, just…relocating.  To the government center,” he clarified when she didn’t look reassured.  “Can you contact the soldiers and make sure they’re moving to contain the creatures?”  She nodded and pulled a communications device out of her pocket.  As she spoke quietly into it, the Doctor turned to Yeris.  “You’re going to tell us exactly what those things are and how to contain them.  _Now_.”

 

Yeris threw up his hands.  “Honestly, Caretaker, I have no idea.  It wasn’t considered need-to-know information yet.  I didn’t even realize that they had matured to this point yet.  Would I still be here if I had?”

 

The Doctor considered this for a moment.  Something wasn’t adding up, but now wasn’t the time to explore it fully.  Now they needed to focus on protecting the population.

 

“River, I need you to take the Duchess to the government center.  Get Macris and Delvaria contained, then make sure the soldiers are equipped to handle those things.  Yeris, you’re coming with me.”  The younger man blanched as the Doctor unlocked the handcuffs.

 

“What are you doing?” the Duchess demanded.  “He’s under arrest!”

 

“And he’ll be dead if he can’t use his hands.  I won’t take my eyes off him, I promise.  Now go!”  River nodded briskly, placed the Duchess’s hand firmly on her vortex manipulator, and with little more than a warning to hang on, they were gone.

 

“Wait, where’s your gun?” Yeris asked.  “She had a gun, where’s yours?”

 

The Doctor smiled grimly.  “Never touch the things if I can help it.  And believe me, I can help it today.  Now come with me and don’t wander off – your life depends on it.”

 

***

 

It hadn’t taken them long at all to run to the site of the nearest bone meadow.  All they’d needed to do was follow the screaming. 

 

Dozens of panicked people were streaming out of their houses, clearly interrupted during their evening meal.  Looming above them were three enormous greyish-green creatures – bipedal with strong legs, barreled chests, and incredibly long teeth.  There was no real intelligence behind the eyes, but they moved like the predators they were, surveying the crowd for easy targets.  The Doctor watched in horrified fascination as one swung its head down to snatch at a young man who accidentally ran too close.  Seizing the man in its jaws, the creature jerked its neck, throwing him into the air before snatching him in its jaws and biting down hard.

 

“Incredible,” the Doctor breathed, while Yeris vomited behind him. 

 

There were no soldiers in sight, and given the sheer quantity of bone meadows it was hardly surprising that the small military force that guarded the city was spread too thin.

 

“We need to run!” Yeris cried, apparently recovered.

 

“No, we don’t.  Here, hold this,” the Doctor passed him River’s handheld scanner.  “Read me the number sequence in that second column – quickly!”

 

As Yeris read, the Doctor programmed his sonic.  He’d done this sort of thing once before, but the principles at work had been slightly different and he’d had a chance to test his theory first.  Also, he hadn’t been in danger of being eaten that time.  Still, if he was anything, it was brilliant, and he was at least 75 percent sure this was going to work.

 

Aiming his sonic at one of the creatures, the Doctor whispered, “I’m sorry,” before activating the screwdriver.  For a moment nothing happened, then suddenly the creature shook violently before collapsing.  In the space of a moment, it disintegrated into a pile of small bone shards.

 

“You…you…” was all Yeris could manage as the Doctor took aim at the next creature. 

 

“Yes.  Now get those people inside.  Quickly!”  Yeris didn’t need to be told twice, and immediately turned toward the still-panicking crowd, attempting to shout above the din that everyone should retreat to the nearest shelter.

 

The Doctor quickly dispatched the three creatures, but he knew he couldn’t work fast enough with his sonic to destroy the hundreds that were wreaking havoc across the city in time to save more lives.  “We’re heading back to the government center,” he told Yeris.  “Run!”

 

***

 

Dispensing with all pretense at formality (or manners) the Doctor shoved his way inside the building and immediately accosted Duchess Claudia, who was giving orders to a small contingent of soldiers just inside the doors.

 

“You sent me a message to come here.  How?”

 

“I’m sorry?” she began, but he cut her off.

 

“The message you sent offworld, the one Delvaria told you to send, how did you transmit it?”

 

She shook her head, not understanding why he needed to know.  “We have a transmitter, down in the council room.  It’s not used much anymore, but-“

 

“Good.  That’s where I’m going.  Tell River to meet me there.” And without another word he took off for the large meeting room labeled “Council Chamber” he’d passed with River during their earlier escape from the building.  Too late he realized that he’d asked her for River – she had no idea who River was.

 

“About time you got here,” she snapped as he entered the room.  He grinned.  Of course she’d realized the same thing he had.  She was brilliant.

 

“No time like the present,” he said, giving her a swift kiss on the cheek.  “Figured it out, did you?”

 

She made a scoffing sound in the back of her throat.  “Sweetie, a five-year-old could have figured it out.  Now, I assume you have the correct sequence programmed in there?”  He nodded, and she finished crossing a wire before holding her hand out for the sonic.  “Unless you’d like to do the honors?”

 

The Doctor paused.  He knew what she was doing.  He hated taking life of any kind, particularly innocent life.  Those creatures, as destructive as they were, were innocents.  They were doing what their biology programmed them to do, and through no fault of their own that same programming ensured that he had to destroy them. 

 

“No, I can do it,” he gripped the sonic tightly, ignored the disapproving purse of her lips, and, holding down the button to transmit a signal, pressed the button.

 

***

 

Hours later, night had fallen.  The official death count – for now – stood at fourteen.  More bodies would likely turn up in the morning, but for now there was no point in continuing to search.  The Doctor and River met the exhausted-looking Duchess outside the doors of a small room in the basement of the government building.  A sign on the door simply read, “Cell”.

 

“Are you ready for this?” River asked her quietly.  The younger woman looked absolutely wrung out, but a fire the Doctor hadn’t seen before blazed in her eyes.  Not only was she ready, he realized, but she needed to do this now.

 

“Yes,” she said, and gestured for one of the guards standing outside the door to unlock it. 

 

The door swung open to reveal Macris and Delvaria.  He was sitting on the floor, she was pacing back and forth.  Neither looked particularly contrite, though there was fear in their eyes as they saw who had arrived to interrogate them.

 

“You know why we’re here,” the Duchess said simply.  “It’s time to tell the truth.  Both of you.  Why did you do it?”

 

Macris ran his hands over his face, and the look in his eyes when he removed them was one the Doctor hadn’t seen before – hatred. 

 

“You really need to ask, your Excellency?  I assume you’ve neutralized the creatures – we wouldn’t be high on your list of priorities if you hadn’t.”

 

“Yes, we did,” she replied.  “Now tell me why.”

 

Delvaria laughed, a bitter and spiteful laugh that sounded less surprising coming from her than its matching look had from Macris.  “Why?  Because it was a way to get rid of _you_.  Do you have any idea, _Duchess_ ,” she spat the title out as if it dirtied her mouth, “how long we’ve wanted to destroy you and your family?  You have ruined our world – our way of life!  You talk about making contact with offworlders as if it will be the solution to all our problems.  We needed to make sure everyone saw what a mistake that would be.”

 

The Duchess remained motionless and silent, and the Doctor briefly wondered if he would need to continue the interrogation by himself.  Then she spoke again, her voice soft but firm.

 

“So in order to preserve our way of life – a way of life that has kept us stagnant for decades – you were willing to take innocent lives?  You disgust me, Delvaria.”

 

This time Delvaria did spit in her direction.  “Then the feeling is mutual.”

 

“What I’d like to know is how you even found out about the ecological engineering program,” the Doctor interjected.  “It’s plain enough that you used the transmitter in the Council Room to make the official arrangements, but where did it all start?”

 

Macris stood and straightened his clothing.  “When you search our homes, Caretaker, as you undoubtedly will, you’ll discover that we’ve been in contact with the outside for far longer than you realize.  Our parents were the first to set up a secret resistance to the government.  They wanted to know if the plague had passed, but in their quest for information they discovered the decadence and corruption of offworld society.  They realized that our way of life needed to be preserved, but continued to receive information from the outside as a precaution.  When we heard about Acturhl’s ecological engineering program, we decided it was the perfect solution to our problems.”

 

River shook her head.  “That doesn’t make any sense.  The Achturhlian genetic engineering program is among the most sophisticated scientific operations in the sector.  How could you have possibly known the solution to their problem?  I’ve seen your technology – you’re simply not that scientifically advanced.”

 

Delvaria laughed her bitter laugh again.  “We didn’t need to.  They came to us.  You mentioned earlier, Caretaker, that our genetic structure isn’t anything out of the ordinary for humans.  You were right.  What the Acturhlans needed was unadulterated human DNA – human DNA without any alien hybridization – to stabilize the genetic codes of the creatures they were trying to create.  The quantities they required for even one subject were vast – at least three individual humans per creature, preferably four or five – and we offered them an unlimited supply of that DNA on a world no one cared about.” 

 

The Duchess shook her head slowly in disbelief.  “I don’t… And what was your plan once our people took steps to depose me?  Were the Acturhlans just supposed to leave?  Why would they do that?”

 

Macris and Delvaria exchanged a look.  He shrugged, as if giving her permission to reveal the final stage of their plan.  The Doctor had a sinking feeling he already knew what it was.  “Achturhl wasn’t the only planet we were in contact with.  Once we were ready for them to depart, we planned to contact the head of their interplanetary alliance – the Madelian Confederacy.  They would come in, remove the Achturhlians, and we could go back to the way life here _should_ be.”

 

“So what now?” Macris asked, turning to the Duchess.  “What will you do with us?  Execution?  Banishment?”

 

Without a word, the Duchess turned on her heel and left the cell.  The Doctor and River followed, exchanging a worried look.  None of the viable options were appealing, and neither was convinced that the Duchess was prepared to make such a difficult choice on her own. 

 

“What do you plan to do, Excellency?” The Doctor asked in a low voice once the guards had secured the door again. 

 

Instead of answering, she took several steps down the corridor, smoothing her skirts over her hips before taking a deep breath and turning again to face them.  “They must be banished.  I was already planning to contact the Madelian Confederacy about the Achturhlians – I will ask them to incarcerate Macris and Delvaria as part of the conspiracy to commit genocide on Elfenor VII.”

 

River nodded.  It was the right choice.  The Doctor didn’t say a word, but reached out for her hand.  The look he shared with her was one of sympathy and respect.  Perhaps, he hoped, she was finally ready to lead on her own.

 

***

 

They didn’t stay long enough to see Yeris, Macris, and Delvaria delivered to the Confederacy.  The ships were in orbit, though, as River searched for the Doctor in the depths of the government center.  He’d mumbled something about needing to check the transmitter again almost an hour ago, but he hadn’t been in the Council Chamber when she’d gone to find him.  He wasn’t in the war room, either. 

 

River fought to contain a rising feeling of annoyance mixed with concern.  Macris and Delvaria had insisted that they had acted alone, without assistance from anyone else on the colony.  Still, she didn’t trust them for a minute, and it was always possible that someone else who had access to this building might have the motivation to strike against the offworlders who had uncovered their plot.

 

“There you are!” she exclaimed, finally catching sight of the back of his tweed as he bent over a large data terminal in a small room that couldn’t have been farther away from where he’d told her he was going.  “Forget where the transmitter was?”

 

“Just needed to check something,” he said, tapping a final command into the terminal before turning around and giving her a broad smile.  “Are you ready to go?”

 

“Anytime you are, sweetie.” She smiled back, pleased to see that he wasn’t dwelling on the unfortunate conclusion to their adventure.  People had died, and it was far from clear whether or not Duchess Claudia was truly ready to lead her people into a new era of contact with the outside universe.  Still, he’d clearly chosen to focus on the positives, which he didn’t do often enough, in her opinion.  “Where to next?”

 

He took her hand and once again brushed a kiss over her knuckles.  “Come with me.”

 

***

 

River was only mildly surprised to find that he had no intention of saying goodbye to the Duchess.

 

The Doctor bounded up the TARDIS’s ramp, as full of energy as if he hadn’t just spent the last 24 hours running all over the city.  For her part, River felt that she could do with a nap.  He flipped switches and dials (half of them unnecessarily, she noted) while she curled up on the jumpseat, watching him work with a bemused smile on her face.

 

“I should probably be getting back to Stormcage,” she noted with a yawn. 

 

He turned around, clearly disappointed.  “So soon?  It was only a day – _time machine,_ you know – we could go somewhere relaxing next if you’re tired.  Perhaps the beaches of Yevih, or the low-grav resort on Hilnc?”

 

She shook her head.  “No, dear.  I need to get back to my cell, at least for a few hours, and you need to do whatever it is you do when I’m not around.  Just not for long , understand?” 

 

He crossed the short distance between the controls and her seat, and bent over until his head was level with hers.  “Sure I couldn’t persuade you to stay a little longer?” He brushed his lips softly against hers.  “I’m sure we could find a few things to occupy ourselves right here.” He moved his lips down to her jaw, then placed a light kiss on her earlobe as one hand reached out to stroke her hair.  “Nothing strenuous, of course.”

 

She laughed, scooting closer to him to give him easier access.  “Now where’s the fun in that?”

 

He didn’t reply, but simply continued to trail light kisses down her neck and collarbone.

 

Needless to say, River didn’t see the inside of Stormcage for quite some time.

 

***

 

**Six Linear Years Later**

It was a game she played, sometimes, searching for them in the history books.  She hadn’t intended to dally in the library when she’d broken into the palace of the Grand Chancellor, but it had been right there next to his private office, and, well, she did enjoy games.

 

River tapped commands into the data terminal, flipping through her mental files as she did so.  Which of their adventures to look up today? 

 

“Ah,” she breathed softly.  “The bone meadows.”

 

Of course the bone meadows and their time on Elfenor VII would be recorded here.  The Grand Chancellor’s territory extended across the sector where the small colony had been located, though it had been incorporated into the Madelian Confederacy nearly a century ago from the perspective of the colonists, which had been nearly a century after she and the Doctor had neutralized the creatures and the bone meadows.  She smiled fondly, remembering the adventure. 

 

Entering her search terms, River waited and watched. 

 

“No items found” read the screen.

 

She frowned.  That wasn’t possible.  Even though Elfenor VII was still a minor planet within the larger Confederacy, the bone meadows would turn up on a search of the Chancellor’s own records.  She tried again, this time adding in Macris, Delvaria, and Yeris’s names.

 

“No items found” the screen read again.

 

“What on earth…?” she murmured, trying one last time to retrieve the information.  This time she typed in the pseudonyms they had used.  “The Caretaker and Doctor Strangelove,” she said softly to herself as she typed. 

 

“Hello, dear” the screen read.  River’s eyes widened.  That was unexpected.  “Hello sweetie,” she murmured, watching as more words filled the screen.

 

“I’ve taken the liberty of erasing any mention of our adventures here.  Ask me why sometime.  Now stop looking us up and get back to whatever it is you’re about to do.  I’m sure I wouldn’t approve.  X”

 

“That man…” she said, shaking her head as she turned off the terminal.  “Ask him sometime.  Just watch me do exactly that.”

 

Verifying that she hadn’t left anything behind – particularly not the rather intriguing documents she’d extracted from the Chancellor’s office moments ago, River programmed coordinates into her vortex manipulator and was gone in an instant.

 

 


End file.
